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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015247">disco fever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooschoolforcool/pseuds/tooschoolforcool'>tooschoolforcool</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Bisexual Character, Cats, First Kiss, Fluff, Lesbian Melanie King, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Spooky Archives, Trans Martin Blackwood, it's implied a couple times but tbh if you're reading a fic that i wrote? he's trans, yeah thats about it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:53:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooschoolforcool/pseuds/tooschoolforcool</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Martin, what on Earth...” Jon trailed off slowly, his eyes falling onto the cat in Martin’s lap, and he made a noise Martin didn't think was within the human register.</p><p>AU where the institute is a (somewhat) normal workplace, martin is more confident bc he’s bffs with melanie, everyone is a cat person, and the assistants try to secretly adopt an archives cat. hijinks ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>disco fever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i desperately needed to write something that doesn’t involve me crawling through the wiki attempting to fact-check for hours, so here’s some fluffy nonsense that i poured my entire heart into. the author can project onto melanie king a little... as a treat... i hope y’all like it !!</p><p>also WHY can i not italicize things in the summary.... why</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Terrible idea.” Sasha crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Martin’s hopeful face. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“But Sasha, Elias never comes down here, and-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin, how on earth do you think Jon is going to react when he finds out you’ve brought a cat into the Archives?” She raised an eyebrow at him, and Martin shrugged, pulling the bundle in his arms closer to his chest and shooting her an almost petulant look. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I didn’t bring her here! I found her! And Jon lives in his office anyway, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t notice either if we were careful. Plus, library cats are a thing, you know, maybe it’ll help with the spider problem!” A tiny mewl came from the blankets, and Martin carefully moved the top fold out of the way, presenting his precious cargo in hopes of playing the sympathy card.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>A tiny kitten poked her head out, blinking wide green eyes at Sasha. She bobbed her head around, then let out another meow. It was the softest and sweetest sound Martin had ever heard in his life, and he felt his heart stretch like a knitting project. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Sasha stared at the kitten for a moment, then at Martin. She stepped forward, gently extending her hand, and presented it to the kitten, who mewled again and nosed at her fingers. Sasha made a small, choked noise, and immediately began cooing. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Want to help me come up with a name?” Martin pressed, hoping this was a good sign. This kitten was irresistible, he was sure, with soft calico fur, and bedraggled from whatever ordeal she had gone through outside. There was no way Sasha could hold out much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I can help you come up with a name for </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>cat, which you’re taking home, I’m sure,” she replied, her tone dry. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“My flat doesn’t allow pets, neither does Melanie’s or I’d ask her, and I don’t know anyone who would take her in! I can’t give her to a shelter, Sasha, w-what if she ends up in a terrible home, or is abandoned again, or- well, I don’t know, but I know she’d be safe here, and I’ll take care of her.” Martin carefully held out the kitten, and Sasha gently cradled her in her own arms, stroking the top of her head with two fingers. Martin knew when he had won.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“If Jon finds out, you’re taking the fall,” she warned, and paused. “Has Tim seen yet?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“No, why?” Martin glanced around at the empty room. Jon had gone out to investigate a statement and had asked Tim to come along with him as extra assistance. Tim had only made about 47 jokes about being the favorite, seemingly oblivious to the fact that both Sasha and Martin were about ready to stab him with a pencil. An hour afterwards, Martin had found the kitten, wandering the stacks of shelves in the Archives. He had no idea how she had gotten in, but she had come from outside, her fur matted in places and visibly underfed, and Martin’s brain had immediately shut off at the sight, leaving no voice of reason to talk him out of this. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“He’s going to lose his mind.” She smiled at the kitten in her arms, bringing her face closer to the kitten and looking her eye-to-eye. The kitten blinked, presumably in confusion, and mewled again.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“In… a bad way?” Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a ‘he might steal this kitten if his flat didn’t also have a no pets rule’ way.” Sasha carefully sat down in the chair behind her, eyes still fixed on the cat in her lap. Martin couldn’t help a smile, feeling proud of himself. It wasn’t easy to convince Sasha of something she wasn’t initially on board with, even if the kitten had done all the heavy lifting for him. He was lucky it seemed the other assistants would be willing to help with this. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He wasn’t sure why he was so adamant about keeping the kitten, besides her obvious cuteness appeal. Something about the thought of putting the kitten down and never seeing her again, leaving her alone, possibly with no one to care for her, made Martin’s heart feel rather like a tennis ball someone had been using for a game of fetch.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“What should your name be, baby? Do you have any ideas?” Sasha continued cooing at the kitten, gently booping her nose. Martin took a seat in his own chair.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I thought maybe Glowstick? Her eyes are like a fluorescent green,” he offered, itching to have the kitten in his own arms again.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I was asking the cat, Martin.” Sasha grinned at him, and Martin made a face at her. “What about Strobe? Since she’s calico, the colors could be like strobe lights?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I’m… not quite sure I follow,” Martin said, and thought for a moment. “Nightclub?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“That’s a terrible name,” Sasha dismissed immediately, and took another moment to coo at the kitten, who seemed to be growing more comfortable with her surroundings, and reached out her head to bump her nose against Sasha’s. The resulting squeal made Martin jump. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“We could just call her Party, that’s kind of cute.” He offered another suggestion, and Sasha shook her head, seemingly coming to a realization.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Disco.” She said decisively, and turned her attention back to the kitten. “It just works, I know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Um, what about-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“We have a name for the kitten I’m helping you hide at risk of my job, Martin, isn’t that great! I’m so glad the two of us settled on the name Disco, thank you for agreeing that it’s perfect.” Sasha continued, shooting a wide smile at Martin before kissing the top of the newly-christened Disco’s head. Martin couldn’t quite protest with that argument. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin went back to work over the next hour or so as Sasha did the same, occasionally cooing at Disco, who was napping on the bundle of blankets in Sasha’s lap. They weren’t expecting Tim and Jon to be back until much later in the day, so when Martin heard footsteps in the hall, they had just enough time to put Disco carefully in a desk drawer, leaving it partially open for air. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon stepped through the doorway, seemingly deep in thought, and looked startled to see Martin and Sasha both staring at him with wild expressions. He raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hello, Martin. Sasha. Could one of you please remind Tim when he returns to send me his report immediately?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin was nodding quickly before Jon had even finished his sentence, and Sasha quickly jumped to volunteer.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Yep! Got it, Jon, Thanks!” She smiled at him, attempting to appear casual even as her words came out jilted and much too quickly. Jon looked at her for a long moment, then at Martin. A tiny, barely audible mewl came from the desk drawer.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin immediately faked a loud cough, long after the sound had already occured. Sasha continued smiling sweetly at Jon, apparently banking on him not noticing the noise, which he didn’t seem to. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“A- alright. Thank you, Sasha.” Jon took a step toward his office, glancing at Martin again, whose eyes were still wide and frantic. The eye contact made him nervous, and he faked another loud cough for an excuse to break it. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Do you need a cough drop, Martin?” Sasha asked pointedly, and he shook his head, turning his attention to the work on his desk. Jon shut his office door behind him, but not before shooting one last questioning look at his assistants. Martin breathed a sigh of relief, putting his head down on his arms, and Sasha immediately started laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“How on earth did you expect to get away with this without me or Tim helping?” She asked, already opening the drawer and scooping Disco into her arms, then standing up. “You just stared at him and coughed, Martin-”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“No need to tease, Sasha.” Martin was fully aware of his own awkward behavior around Jon. The man was undeniably attractive, in his eyes, even with his usually rumpled appearance and lack of self-care, and he found it hard to shake the unfortunate crush he had found himself with. He had confided in Sasha not long ago, and was already somewhat regretting this. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I wasn’t, Martin, honest, not about that.” Sasha shot him an apologetic look, and he held out his arms for Disco. She reluctantly transferred the kitten over to him, and he hugged her to his chest as gently as he could. Disco nuzzled against him, and Martin couldn’t think coherently, too invested in watching as she closed her eyes to nap. He wasn’t the most familiar with cats, but this seemed like a lot of trust to be placing in what must be intimidating strangers to Disco. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“She must be a smart kitty. She already knows we’ll take care of her.” Martin pressed his cheek against Disco’s soft fur, then pulled it back as he remembered a bath might be necessary for Disco before he put his face near her. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They had a lot of logistics to figure out.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  
  <span>In the end, Tim figured out most of the logistics, because the instant he saw the kitten Martin was sure he would never pay attention to his actual job again. Apparently Tim loved animals, and he doted on Disco just as much as Martin and Sasha. Together, they formed a team dedicated entirely to absolutely spoiling a kitten. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It had been a month since Disco had joined the archival assistant team, and she had settled in surprisingly well. She spent most of her time among the towering shelves of the Archives, weaving between the ankles of whatever archival assistant was trudging through research that particular day, but sometimes one of them would take her home, carefully slipping her into whatever backpack or bag they had brought along for the purpose and humming loudly to cover any meows of protest from the jostling. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Disco seemed to be a lot more intelligent than Martin had ever given cats credit for before. He seemed to only see her when there was no immediate danger of anyone else spotting her, when Jon was in his office or out and Elias was nowhere to be seen. She would duck under desks if Jon unexpectedly came into the hall, hiding herself just in time without fail, and Sasha joked that Disco was going to create even more statements for their ever-growing Archives, that people were going to start coming in talking about spotting a ghost cat out of the corner of their eye.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>On this particular day, Disco had chosen Martin as her favorite, and was currently purring loudly as she rubbed against his neck. He couldn’t stop his smile as he turned to peck her head, whispering incoherent affectionate nonsense to her in a voice bordering on baby-talk. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Sasha and Tim were both out, having taken their lunch together, and Martin was thoroughly enjoying his alone time with Disco. He privately thought of himself as Disco’s favorite. She would purr easiest for him, seek him out first in greeting when the three assistants arrived to work for the day, and curl up on his shoulders occasionally when he slumped in his chair, fitting just barely in the space between the back of his neck and the headrest. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He was vaguely aware Jon would be back sometime soon, but he had set an alarm for about ten minutes before the earliest he expected him, more than enough time to put Disco in her hidden spot in the Archives, a small bed inside a little-used empty storage room that Tim had dragged a shelf in front of. Sasha had said she felt a little like a secret agent, with all this sneaking around, and Martin had laughed, and it had almost been a nice moment until Jon happened to walk in and saw the three of them talking and laughing instead of doing the work he had requested. The following moment had not been as nice. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin wasn’t sure what happened to give Jon such an irritable demeanor, but he put up with it without much protest, as did Tim and Sasha. They found it best to just avoid Jon, and as such rarely spoke to him when it wasn’t work related. Jon had made it clear he wasn’t interested in befriending any of them, and had in fact treated Martin the worst out of the three, and yet still his stubborn crush remained. His behavior had eased over time, and Jon had become much more agreeable, but still they stuck to their original strategy of operating under a terse sort of ‘You leave me be and I leave you be and we get our work done’. ‘Separately’.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It would be much easier for Disco if Jon could be less of a prick, Martin reflected. She’d have free reign over the basement. Jon didn’t strike him as someone who’d be sympathetic, however, moreso someone to demand the immediate removal of the kitten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>The man in question cleared his throat from behind Martin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin let out a small shriek, and immediately cursed himself. He felt Disco slide into his lap, curling into a tiny ball and mewling pitifully. Martin put a protective hand over her head, slowly swiveling his chair to face the music.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Martin, what on earth…” Jon trailed off slowly, his eyes falling onto the cat in Martin’s lap, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>cooed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>This was even more startling. Jon’s eyes were fixed on Disco, who seemed to be mustering up all her bravery, poking her head out from under Martin’s fingers and meowing again. He was impressed by her manipulation tactics, and at such a young age. He was a very proud cat dad. No one could resist the amount of cuteness radiating from her currently- not even, it seemed, Jon.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon was still making small noises, approaching Martin slowly and holding out two fingers carefully for Disco to sniff. She did so, and apparently made her decision, reaching out and bumping her head against Jon’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon’s expression melted into absolute softness as he used the sweetest tone Martin had ever heard to shower Disco with praise. He could barely believe it came from Jon, but he couldn’t deny the sight in front of him- and he was finding it hard not to find Jon just as cute as the kitten. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Can I hold her?” He asked, almost in a whisper, and Martin nodded mutely, passing Disco over carefully. Jon sat cross legged on the floor in front of Martin’s chair, utterly transfixed as Disco started tugging at one of his shoelaces. He trailed a single finger over her head, and she started purring softly, nuzzling into his fingers. It was a remarkable transformation, and Martin once again was struck by how smart this cat seemed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Her name is Disco,” he said quietly, “and she’s been living here for a month now.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon’s reaction had been nothing like he expected, and apparently Jon was still dead-set on making Martin question everything he held to be true in life, as he took the news matter-of-factly and with no vitriol. He watched the man he had never seen smile lose his absolute mind over a kitten and tried his hardest not to let the sight worm its way into his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Disco. Makes sense, given she’s an Archives cat.” Jon mused softly, and Martin, however confused, thought not to question what exactly about that made sense. It seemed like he shouldn’t press his luck.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Feeling awkward sitting and looking down at Jon, Martin joined him on the floor, sitting next to him and leaning against his desk. Disco switched her attention to his shoelace for a moment before Jon started rubbing her behind the ears and all was forgotten in favor of convincing this human to never stop doing that. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Where does she... sleep?” Jon asked, glancing around like he expected to see a cat bed somewhere. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“The Archives- we found an empty room, and Tim pulled a shelf over the door to hide it,” Martin confessed, unsure if he should be telling Jon all this. He could’ve lied, told Jon Disco had just wandered in from outside or something, but Jon’s reaction to Disco was positive enough Martin was feeling hopeful.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well that won’t do, she needs to be within eyesight, so we can make sure she doesn’t get into anything,” Jon mused. “What about my office?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin paused for a moment, pondering, then snorted. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You just want her all to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon smiled at him, and Martin’s heart skipped a beat. “Caught, I suppose, but you can hardly blame me.” He turned his attention back to the kitten. Martin was not jealous of a cat. Martin was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> jealous of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I take it you’re a cat person?” He asked, shifting slightly as his position on the hard wood grew uncomfortable. “I can’t say I would’ve expected that.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“And why is that?” Jon asked. Martin thought he was being prickly again, for a moment, but looking at his face, the other man was still smiling at the cat, looking unbothered by Martin’s question. He was genuinely just curious. Had they misjudged Jon? He seemed a lot less threatening with a cat in his arms, and Martin considered for a moment that maybe their initial impressions of the man had stuck, and perhaps colored their view of him now. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You just don’t quite fit the stereotype, I suppose,” Martin offered, reluctant to say ‘well, we all thought you were an asshole who hated joy’, which felt a little too much.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Fair enough. A close friend of mine has a cat I’m very fond of.” Jon gently lifted Disco, looking at her eye to eye for a moment before pressing a light kiss to her nose. “I also am rapidly becoming quite fond of this one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>“Martin, Jon beat us back, are you- fuck.” Tim came into the office in the usual Tim way, which was to say as similar to a hurricane as he could manage. Skidding through the doorway, he stopped in his tracks at the sight before him, then pitched forward as his abrupt stop resulted  in Sasha rushing directly into his back. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Tim caught himself just before the floor, recovering and taking in the scene before him. Jon was cradling Disco to his chest now, looking content, while Martin’s eyes were wide at their sudden interruption. Sasha stepped around Tim, her own eyes shocked as well.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“So you’ve met Disco.” Tim stated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I have.” Jon responded in a neutral tone. Sasha shot Martin a nervous expression, and he sent what he hoped was a reassuring smile.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“So we’re keeping her?” Tim asked, sounding a bit like a child hopeful about permission for a playdate. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“So we are.” Jon turned his gaze back to Disco, which Martin felt might become a bit of a running theme. He looked absolutely enchanted with her, and Martin allowed himself a moment to stare at him while there was no chance of Jon noticing.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon’s hair was mussed, his eyes were dark and had heavy bags under them, and his shirt was rumpled. He was exactly Martin’s type, and Martin once again found himself cursing at himself for the thoughts that refused to get out of his head. This most recent development was certainly not helping, and he couldn’t decide which was a cuter sight, Disco or Jon.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well. That worked out nicely, then.” Sasha said quietly, seemingly to herself, and sat down at her desk. Tim sat on the floor instead, next to Martin, and held out his arms for Disco. A long moment passed. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Jon, it’s my turn. You need to share or I’ll tell Martin on you.” Tim looked at Jon expectantly, and Jon made a face, tightening his arms around Disco. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I’m not sure Martin has authority-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin found Disco, he has cat father privileges, those are the rules.” Sasha chimed in from across the room, and Jon sent Martin a look that could be interpreted as pleading. He shrugged at Jon with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Rules are rules, Jon, share with Tim.” Martin imitated the tone of every teacher he’d ever hated throughout his life, and Jon made an expression that was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>pouting </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he handed Disco over to Tim. Martin was amazed. Tim immediately leaned back slowly until he was laying on his back on the floor, propped up by an elbow as he carefully placed Disco onto his chest. She meowed loudly and curled up into a ball. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I suppose you’re right,” Jon said, standing up as he did so, and walking in the direction of his office. Martin watched him go. Not for any untoward reasons, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin caught the longing glance Jon sent over his shoulder at Disco, and hid a smile at the sight, watching as Jon left his office door open, no doubt to allow Disco access. It seemed they had a new team member on their side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Of course, three months later, Elias hired Basira Hussain, and everything went to shit. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>She was nice enough, of course, and Martin would have no issue with her if not for the fact that an addition to the Archives meant not only the walking space in their cramped room suddenly became one desk smaller, but also that Disco had to return to skulking around the Archives shelves instead of enjoying the freedom she’d had the last several months. There had been a few close calls- on one occasion, Martin had seen Jon make a mad dash for Disco as she attempted to race for the door Sasha had forgotten to shut entirely behind her. Jon had fallen hard on the floor, but kept Disco safely in the basement. Martin had found Neosporin for Jon’s knee and entertained wild fantasies of applying it himself. Instead he gave the tube to Jon and tried to hide the blush blooming below his cheeks. On another occasion, Elias had unexpectedly poked his head into the Archives, and Tim had awkwardly sat with a squirming cat under his shirt for several minutes, trying desperately to hide her noises. Elias undoubtedly thought them all a bit mad, as they loudly hummed or coughed intermittently as he attempted to talk to Jon. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Most of the time, however, Disco had remained entirely hidden, able to roam in the basement wherever she pleased. She had the rule of the place, every assistant plus Jon wrapped around her paw. Martin hoped they could slowly get to know Basira, find out her opinion on cats, and go from there. She had already befriended Jon, somehow, and Martin tried to tamper down his jealousy as he saw the two of them talking and laughing, even though he knew there were no romantic feelings between the two. And even though it was none of his business, as he was quite certain Jon held no romantic inclinations towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin and Jon had struck up a friendship, though, bound together by their shared love for Disco, and as Jon warmed to his assistants, they had spent the last three months with a sort of comfortable familiarity between them. Martin was sure he would’ve somewhat resented at first Basira anyway, simply for adding a new dynamic to the mix, but as it was her real crime that was far worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>The first few weeks were fine, passing with no issues, as Disco stayed with Tim for a short while, but after a close call with Tim’s landlord it was decided Disco needed to return to her home, and it was time to bring Basira into their little cat club. She had mentioned she found cats cute, which was about all they needed. If she thought just any cat was cute, wait until she met Disco, Martin had thought to himself, feeling rather like a proud parent. No one could resist Disco. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Said cat had been snuck back into her small room that day, and Martin and Jon had stayed after-hours to watch her race among the shelves, sitting close together on a plastic storage container filled with thick books in lieu of dragging chairs in. Martin couldn’t complain- there were inches between them, and he was close enough to reach out and grab Jon’s hand. He wouldn’t, of course, Jon would no doubt be shocked and most likely offended at his unprofessionalism and forwardness. Their easy friendship would return to Jon’s disdain towards him, and Martin couldn’t let that happen. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He stole a glance at Jon, and tried to suppress his flush as he saw Jon was already looking at him. Stealing another glance a moment or two later, Martin relaxed to see Jon’s attention once again on Disco. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“She’s getting so big already,” Martin mused quietly, hoping conversation would startle him out of his own thoughts. “We’ll have to have a birthday party for her eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“We don’t know her birthday!” Martin couldn’t help but laugh at Jon’s shocked tone, turning to see his now-offended expression at Martin’s amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I don’t think she’ll mind if we count the day she got here, Jon, we could wait until the anniversary.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the same, though,” Jon replied, looking thoughtful. “We’ll have to have two parties.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Sure, Jon.” Martin decided not to argue, as Jon looked genuinely upset at the prospect of Disco not receiving a proper birthday party. He tried not to find it as adorable as he did, and failed miserably, unable to shake the small smile still on his lips. Jon returned his smile before standing with an air of finality, grabbing his nearby bag, before holding out a hand to Martin to pull him to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin took it, standing up a little too fast, and almost knocking Jon off balance. There was a moment- just one single moment- where his face was looking down at Jon’s own, just inches apart. Jon’s hand had come up to rest on Martin’s bicep in an attempt to steady him, and Martin felt the small touch send waves of electricity through the rest of him, frozen as still as he could possibly stand. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Jon was the first to break the contact, taking his hand away and stepping back with an awkward smile.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well. We should be going, it’s getting rather late,” he said quickly, turning towards Disco and beginning to call for her.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin wondered for just a moment if that was a hint of a blush decorating Jon’s cheeks, and decided that was impossible, but it didn’t stop him immediately texting Melanie on his way out the door. She, predictably, demanded he head over to her flat immediately so she could hear the gossip firsthand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>“So that’s like third base for you, right?” Melanie asked, sprawled across the floor on her back. Martin sat cross-legged on a beanbag chair, staring up at the posters and decorations on Melanie’s wall- he had helped her put up collages of print-outs on the walls nearest her bed in her small studio, a year or so ago, and it was convenient to stare at whenever you wanted to avoid eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“We just stood near each other a second. It’s stupid, really.” Martin chewed on his lip, letting his eyes rest on his favourite of her posters, declaring ‘I WANT TO RETRIEVE’ in bold letters with a picture of a golden retriever floating in a UFO. It was surrounded by a few photos of Melanie and Martin back in high school, Martin in a baggy sweater with an awkward grin and Melanie, sans tattoos, wearing black lipstick and a ripped band t-shirt, a huge smile on her face, and standing on her tip-toes to sling an arm around Martin’s shoulder. Martin’s hair was long, pulled back in a ponytail, and he winced at the sight. Intersting times. They had made an odd pair, Martin thought, but then again not much had changed, and they remained as close as ever despite their complete lack of things in common. Melanie said they balanced each-other out, her all sharp angles and him all soft warmth, but it was more like Melanie convinced Martin to go along with her bad ideas while she ignored his voice of reason. At least until his crush on Jon had become an issue, and now Melanie had the role of providing the logic to his rambling anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Progress is progress. First, breathing the same air. Next, full on make-out sesh.” Melanie held up her hands, framing the invisible plan between them, and Martin snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“He doesn’t think of me like that. I don’t know why I can’t get him out of my head.” He sighed, making a conscious effort to stop chewing on his already-bleeding lip. Melanie, without looking, tossed a package of gum at him, hitting him square in the forehead, and he murmured a thanks as he popped a piece into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“It’s called having feelings for someone, Martin, you can’t exactly turn them on and off.” She shifted, turning onto her side to look at him, her expression softening as she did so. He assumed he looked as pathetic as he felt, and she seemed to take pity, waving her hands at him in an attempt to get him to come closer. He did so, and she hugged him tightly before flopping back over, patting the hard floor next to her. Martin mirrored her position, looking up at the hanging lights she had decorated the ceiling with. The effect was almost dizzying, from this angle, but Melanie’s shoulder against his grounded him as it always had. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I know it’s hard, unreciprocated or not, but I would like to point out again that you don’t actually have any solid proof one way or the other. It’s not like you’ve been flirting up a storm or something and he’s been ignoring it.” She pointed out, absent-mindedly rubbing her thumb over the pink triangle tattoo on her wrist. Martin reached over to poke his favorite tattoo of hers, a tiny M on her shoulder that she had gotten shortly after her 18th birthday. He wasn’t confident enough to make any permanent decision beyond the ones he had already made regarding his body, so she liked to say she’d gotten it for the both of them. The two Ms since middle school.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Okay, well, in that case, I’ll just turn on the charm and romance him.” Martin’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and Melanie lightly punched him on the shoulder, laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Trust me, you’re irresistible. With your tea-making skills? I’d propose on the spot.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Aren’t you already taken by Wednesday Addams?” He gestured to her all-black outfit, complete with dark purple lipstick, and she looked around for something to throw at him, the topic of his feelings for Jon dropped at long last. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin had arrived at work after Basira, but before Tim and Sasha, and he murmured a hello as he sat at his desk to work. It was a quiet morning, rain steadily drizzling down with no signs of stopping, and he was in an odd sort of melancholic mood. It was certainly the type of mood that could be improved by cuddling with a cat, so he lasted only a total of twenty minutes before he made his way to Disco’s hideaway spot.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>She was over the moon to see him, and Martin spent another twenty minutes with his face buried in her fur, talking to her in a low voice about his day and his life and anything he thought she might be interested in. She purred happily enough, squeezing her eyes shut as Martin scratched under her chin and nosing at his hand whenever he stopped giving her attention. Martin returned to his desk feeling much better, and happily greeted Sasha when she arrived a few minutes later.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
  <span>Basira sneezed a few minutes later, loudly enough to startle them both, and they both murmured quiet ‘bless you’s and continued with their work. Martin brushed a few stray cat hairs off of his worn flannel.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Tim arrived ten minutes after that, and their greetings were interrupted by Basira’s loud sneeze. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Sorry, sorry, I don’t know why my nose is going crazy!” She looked around for tissues, and Martin handed her a box from his own desk drawer. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Basira sneezed again, and again, in rapid succession, rubbing at her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allergies? Spring has sprung…” Sasha offered as an explanation, shooting a look at Tim. There was perhaps a more likely allergy-causing candidate.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“No, I’ve never had seasonal allergies before, although I suppose those can set in late for some people- I’ve only ever been allergic to cats, though,” she mused, and that was exactly why Martin wished Basira had never been hired. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Martin supposed that was a bit dramatic. It had been fine, honestly, it just meant in no uncertain terms Disco could no longer stay at the Archives. Tim, Martin, and Sasha were all immediately ruled out as places for her, and that’s how Martin found himself at Jon’s flat, the only one that allowed pets, for the first time, holding a cat carrier and nervous out of his mind. He had no idea what to expect, except that he was about to spend several hours alone with Jon in his flat with no one else. Just the two of them. Martin could not stress enough that it would be him. And Jon. And no one else.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>This could not end well. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my tumblr is @diffenbachiae come be my friend!! </p><p>discō, discere, didicī, discitum: i learn, i acquire knowledge, (rarely) i know</p><p>finally my year of learning latin for no reason except i really like the raven cycle pays off.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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